The Order of the Neckerchief
by HeavenlyBodies
Summary: Geoffrey was right, the King had been pleased.  aka porn with plot in witness protection and denying any knowledge of its actual existence


See, there was this discussion challenge over at **merlin_land** and as usual things digressed, though not as far as usual with me and **kina54**- hey, we didn't mention SPN once!- and well, porn happened.

**Warnings/Squicks:** future!fic (but it's safe, I promise), light bondage, neckerchief use and abuse  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>Not mine, never have been, never will be

**AN1a-c:** Blame firmly placed on Written for **kina54** with a side order of blame on **thecheekydragon** for starting the topic it devolved from.  
>So, um, I kinda got distracted from the kink with the porn, but… there's porn and neckerchiefs and rites and did I mention the porn?<br>Oh and don't ask me why my brain insisted on giving Merlin all the control it just did and these days I'm not asking just going with it.  
><strong>AN2:<strong>This falls into the category of PORN hence, "Word Thing"? What "Word Thing"?

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Arthur came to him, days into his reign, with the strange request, stranger still how quickly he'd taken to the task, and now it was finished. A sacred rite between a King and his most faithful and loyal protector. He knew what the rite was truly about, and what the new King needed it to be. So, tucked away in his archives, Geoffrey had worked and scrawled and let his imagination and knowledge of the honourary rites of this kingdom and many others, old and new, colour his words. He sat back and looked at the sheaf of paper ordered in front of him, a proud, mischievous smile pulling at his lips. The King would be pleased. With a low creak that could have come from his chair or his body he pulled himself up, tucking his precious bundle under one arm and made his way to the King's chambers knowing he would want to begin preparations immediately.

Arthur sat at the oaken desk he'd been using since he was old enough to clamour into the large chair behind it- one of the many things he refused to relinquish when he took the throne- and read the words Geoffrey had written for him. The pages began simply enough, tracing the history and origins of the Order, proving it to be several centuries old. Unlike the majority of modern rites however, these rites were to be completed with only the King and initiate present. This, the text explained, was to show the trust and loyalty between the two. Arthur nodded in silent approval.

_The King was to present the initiate to his court and declare his intention of bestowing the Order. The room would then be cleared of all, save the King and initiate. They would then disrobe each other, a further show of trust- to be so exposed and to allow another to expose you would sanctify the progression. _

Arthur gulped, he knew all too well what it felt like to have Merlin's fine fingers divesting him of his clothing; just as he knew how his own hands felt against Merlin's clothes as he peeled away the layers.

_Once disrobed they were to kneel before each other, mapping the body of protector and protected. _

In a haze of heavy breaths, Arthur noted there was no distinction of who was who. He imagined his hands trailing over Merlin's sharp shoulders, shoulders that had born so much for him and for Camelot over the years, always underappreciated and for too many years alone. He could feel Merlin's body hum beneath his hands the power that could now run free still held in tight control under his pale skin. His hand would drift down over his bare stomach to Merlin's hardening flesh and he would stroke his fingers tentatively over it, feeling it twitch and fill under his calloused touch.

_The initiate is then to bind the King's hands and eyes... _

He would pull Merlin's neckerchief- the blue one he so seldom wore, but brought out the softness in his eyes- from the pile of discarded clothing and tell him to bind his hands with it. He could feel the well-worn fabric, remembered when it was still raw and harsh before age and use had smoothed the rough fibres making the fabric so soft like fine silk, like Merlin's fine skin. His eyes would watch as nimble fingers tied the fabric, waiting for the final tightening tug before meeting Merlin's gaze once again. And he knew the look he'd see there, the look of wonderment and love. He'd sway towards Merlin, not because of any ritual, but because he needed to feel those deceptively strong arms catch him, hold him as he rubbed against Merlin's chin breathing in the sweet musky scent of him. He'd pull back away from Merlin, indicating the piece of fabric off to the side away from their clothes, but still in reach- another neckerchief, new and fine, made of fine woven silk, but in the same deep blue as the woolen one wrapped around his wrists. 'My eyes,' he'd say, the most instruction he could get out between his ragged breaths.  
>Merlin would take the material, wind it in his hands, threading it through his fingers making small, sweet sounds that he wouldn't even know he was making. Finally, he'd begin to fold the fabric in long strips. Smoothing down each fold before making the next, completely aware that Arthur's eyes were following every move he made. He'd slide the fabric over Arthur's eyes as if he was made of glass before tying it behind his head.<br>After that everything would be up to Merlin, Arthur would be at his mercy as if that thought could ever hold any fear for him.

_…instilling the initiate with the full weight and responsibility of his new title._

He imagined what Merlin would do or what he'd want him to do. He wanted to feel those long delicate fingers glide down his chest, following the line of his breast bone down to his navel then brush back up again until Merlin's palm rested above his heart. Arthur chewed his bottom lip as he thought about Merlin's free hand tracing the line of his hip until he could wrap it around Arthur's throbbing cock. Merlin would lean close, his lips ghosting air along his ear as he spoke one solitary word, 'breathe'.  
>Arthur shuddered at the imagined puff of breath.<br>In his mind, Merlin would work him with long, slow strokes as he whispered kisses along his neck and jaw before finally meeting Arthur's questing mouth in a too quick kiss. Smiling against the soft whimper from Arthur's throat, Merlin would ease him down to lay on the soft furs spread beneath them. Arthur would raise his bound hands above his head, wanting nothing between his body and Merlin's, even his own hands. Wet open mouth kisses would be trailed down his chest, until Merlin hovered over his shaft.  
>His fantasy didn't last. The first thought of Merlin's warm lips closing over him and he was coming with a blinding force, a strangled, guttural sound ripped from him along with his orgasm.<p>

-ooo-

The following day as they lay naked wrapped in furs on the floor of the council chambers, Arthur's hand- blissfully free of its bindings- carding through his lover's hair, Merlin asked, voice heavy and sated, "What brought this on?"

Arthur smiled into his dark hair, "I just wanted you near me, always."

"You've never needed a rite for that."

"No, but now it's official for everyone to see." Arthur chuckled, "My Knight of the Neckerchief."

Merlin groaned and buried his face in Arthur's chest remembering that just because he was in love and was King, it didn't make Arthur any less of a prat.


End file.
